


Trust is a game we play (and she's drawn maps for you)

by canadianpunk



Category: Saving Hope
Genre: Drabble, Drabble Collection, F/F, Headcanon, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 04:49:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11616225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canadianpunk/pseuds/canadianpunk
Summary: A collection of drabbles in Maggie's headcannon revolving around her relationship with Sydney. And her relationship with relationships and life in general.





	Trust is a game we play (and she's drawn maps for you)

You don’t mean for it to happen but every now and then it does. You wake up and your sleep-addled brain has you convinced that the space in the bed next to you will be empty. You don’t want to but it just became what you expected of Sydney and you aren’t over it yet. Some nights all you can do is remember how much time you spent simply thinking of her and how she was so achingly far away. It’s beautifully juxtaposed to Sydney’s own midnight awakenings during which she realizes that you’re right there with her; warm, real, and usually naked. She knows about your fears and so whenever she stirs from her sleep to find her heart bursting for you she pulls you close and tries to drown out your heartache with how much she adores you. 

It works every time. 

Or it did until you crossed an ocean with her and her life moved forward at light speed while you started over again. 

You love her so much so it doesn’t really matter. If you were being honest you’d chose this, chose her, every single time. But it’s starting to kill you a little bit every time your paranoid brain betrays your smitten heart.

The worst night comes three months after you moved to London. This time when you wake up the space next to you is empty and you actually panic. You know it’s completely irrational because her watch is still on her bedside table and there’s a light peeking in from the living room. But your heart is racing and all the pain you felt every time she walked away from you suddenly swallows you up. It’s 5am and a light rain is falling on the windows as you walk into the living room to find Sydney perched on the couch, a patient’s case file spilled out on the coffee table in front of her. And you feel suddenly very ridiculous. You know all about the difficult case she’s taking on today. You might even be assisting on it as it progresses. 

Your face falls. You feel the tears and you can’t bite them back. “I love you.” Is what you say, please never leave me again is what you mean.

Sydney looks up at you and all at once she’s surprised and broken. Case files forgotten she stands to meet you, cups your face in her hands, and kisses you. Not urgently as if to convince you, but softly to assure you. It was her fear and uncertainty that led you to feel this way. She made a fine mess of your heart and the way that she holds you close tells you that she wants you to feel her heart and all the ways it’s trying to put yours back together. 

You spend the rest of the morning before work curled up beside her on the couch sipping a coffee as she finishes her prep work. This is how much Sydney loves you. You may not be able to keep your insecurity under control just yet, but she’s proven time again that she’s in this for the long haul; a good man in the storm and stable like a rock. Well, a very soft and warm rock. She’s patient with you as you’re learning to trust her unconditionally. And in those moments when you don’t, like this particular morning, she wraps herself around you. Moulds her body to yours as if every inch of you were meant to be in contact with every inch of her. Your whole life you spent living inside of boxes. Now Sydney is opening each one, bringing you into her world, and finding all the places where you fit perfectly. 

You spend your day in a sort of listless haze. You can’t help but feel a little bit guilty because ever since moving to London, Sydney has not given you a single reason to revisit your fear of abandonment so often. She’s been perfect to the letter. She leaves you notes in your locker and waits for you to get off call. It’s every bit a sappy high school first love, as it is a grown up relationship of the forever kind. But all day you’ve been drowning in memories of picking up every piece that your heart broke into each time that she left you. 

It’s in one of the rare moments of peace that your current mentor graces you with that Sydney finds you. And you probably look the very definition of dejection sitting on the couch in one of the lounges, head in your hands, trying to rub away the disagreeable thoughts that are plaguing you. 

You’re both too new to this hospital for Sydney to be too brazen, but that doesn’t stop her from dragging you up off the couch and into one of the cramped on call rooms. You’re not often alone with her at work as you mostly find yourself buried in the tedium of your fellowship. And that makes you love these moments. Even if the on call room is tiny and dark, and smells vaguely like old gym socks. As soon as those hands find your waist and slip up under your scrub top just enough so that deft fingers can dance along your skin you awake from your earlier funk and free fall into everything that you want to feel. You kiss her, as if it’s the only thing in your entire life that you’ve ever been meant to do. 

“There you are.” Sydney smiles and traces the line of your jaw. She’s drawn maps for every way you like to be touched. These moments are why, at the same time, you can be overwhelmed with the fear of losing her and also question why you’re afraid of that at all. The way she’s looking at you right now, you know that you’re all she sees of the future.

That night when you get into bed, Sydney lies down on your side of the mattress. At first you’re curious and wonder if your girlfriend suffered minor brain damage since the morning. You’re also a creature of habit and sometimes a little obsessive about bed space so you’re hesitant to play along. But when you get in on her side and you’re overwhelmed by her smell and by how the mattress feels more like how she sleeps, you understand. She’s letting you know that every part of her belongs to you. And you’ll never wake up alone or suffer her absence again. Her breath is your breath. You smile at her as your head meets the pillow and your heart is once again singing louder than your brain can protest.


End file.
